PURPS SENT WEST

25th August 2025 - City of Liverpool 1 v 4 West Didsbury and Chorlton FC - The weather was set fair again, we took the opportunity to go to Lunt Meadows Nature Reserve and see what we could see.  The pools were dried up like the face of Angela Rayner and the grass was washed out and limp, akin to the hopes of the nation thanks to the digital drain, the succession of idiot governments and the masses inability to break the mould.  We did OK though - 120+ species all taken in, respected and recorded, a good stretch of the shanks and then a pop into Maghull for coffee and cake and a pootle in a few charity shops.  From here we headed to Burscough FC, parked up at the ground and did a circular walk nearby with more wildlife recorded and a few nooks and crannies explored.  Back at the ground with an hour before kick-off and we shared some chips, had a drink and both had a good read.  The climate was soporific to say the least, we could have been excused I am sure for dozing off and missing the whole match.  Thankfully we kept the peepers peeled (just) and these are my humble scribblings.

And into the animated waters of globe chasing we went with the start to the game notably slow on what was a thermally lofted day.  Initial sway fell to the WDC pack whilst the opposing force just struggled to gain any foothold.  A few forward balls were posted by the guests but no serious threats were borne.  The first hope of a strike came when the West's No 7 (Lewis Billingsley) went on a run that saw the COL defence open up like the diarrhoea spilling maw of Kier Starmer.  The dig that came lacked power whereas the aforementioned PM's bilge just lacks honesty. In return, the best that could be offered was a cloud-fracturing welly-wanger from the No 3 (Robert Murphy) which was hammered with hope but which turned out to be hopeless.

From here the home team eventually found their footing, 2 shots came in quick succession, both were blocked with No 11 (Che Trepasso-Tully) providing another effort that was deflected wide.  The corner that came was, ahem... shit.  A neat Purps move saw a finalised shot get saved and then a flashing West response come via No 11 (Billy Matthews) who galloped like a good un', exposed mercurial tootsie's, negotiated his marker and sent in a cross.  A defensive header put the ball behind and from the corner great confusion arose with the resident ranks happy to hoof clear.

The City of Liverpool were next to advance with the WDC mob gaining possession and trying to play out from the back.  The idea was sound, the execution poor and in nipped the home No 8 (Kurtis Pearson) to pilfer, punt and unfortunately ping the side netting.  The same team were soon away again, Trepasso-Tully feeding No 9 (Stephen Milne) that gave rise to a shot and a ruddy good save.  The angled humping came, a shot was blocked by a lunged carcass, the ball was astray and 'boom' - Murphy snaffled up the awaiting sphere and sent it nestling into the onion bag.  The game needed it, we needed it and the struggling home team needed it - now where do we go from here?

Well, the visiting Billingsley took down a long ball with consummate ease, turned and beat his marker.  The shot that followed was deflected wide, in truth, the lad deserved better.  The Purps had two more corners that were well delivered but snuffed out before a hefty kick from the rear released Billingsley who had an abundance of space to cause serious trouble but, before he could don the role of Dennis the Menace, he was tackled with true precision and denied any mischief.  A corner did follow, the ball into the box saw a shot hit the head of a defender and ping off the bar where the rangy No 9 (Patrick Davin) waited and easily nutted home.  The travelling support were delighted, their erections of joy were duly bathed in a bromide of realisation as the liner waved his flag for an indiscretion - no goal, no boner!

The sands of time of this first period were now trickling away when a long ball for the West Warriors looked to be a hopeless cause.  Davin refused to be denied, he galloped on his lengthy pins, somehow rescued the ball on the end line and produced a low cross that saw  an incoming player look to pounce upon.  The backtracking No 6 (Fidan Hadjari) for the Purps lunged, contact was made, a red card brandished and a penalty given.  A double kick in the globes was given when Billingsley stepped up and slapped the ball home to bring the game back to all level - if ever a game turned in a twitch, this was it.  To add insult and rub spices and salts in the open wound, on the 48^th minute of the half WDC came again, No 8 (Harvey Roberts) had a pop from range and grabbed the leading goal for his side.  It was a sweet strike with sour results for the hosts, shit happens, the second half now appeared to be a real different prospect for all concerned.

A wander for the break, the backs were busting, we needed a stretch and a catch up with some fine Purple faves (not literally of course although Bill S was of shade bordering on a full bloom into autumnal verdancy - I blame the dirty magazines).  A fine natter with ardent fans down but not out, and a gift from local Big Bake Off Star Peawack - very kind mate.  Did you know that this gent once spent five months in a Holiday Inn with The Galloping Gourmet and learned to cook all manner of mouth-watering dishes.  From chips and egg to beans on a bap, the man's talents are limitless and all for a period of dedication and a few eclairs up the jacksie.  I suppose it could have been worse, I was once accosted by a Fanny Craddock based transvestite and am still suffering from a rectal souffle infection.  

Half two, and the early thrust came via the trailing team.  A striker darted, a tackle made, the guests broke with 2 cutting passes and a cross.  No 12 (Kristian Holt) appeared, the ball was fired home, the ultimate early body blow was delivered.  From here WDC controlled the general pace of the game, passed with care and patience and posted a few crosses that resulted in headers that should have produced more.  One such cross however resulted in a choice point blank save with the loose ball by Holt buried and the score duly increased to 1 - 4.

Credit where credit is due, the depleted home lads battled on and produced several minor threats  Another blow came soon after though when the player I considered most effective hobbled off and a forced sub was made.  Big up to their No 5 (Colyfa Kamara) who jumped like a kangaroo on steroids, dashed and darted like a nerve riddled ferret and read the game like a wise old owl all booted up.  On the game went, a COL sub nearly nipped in and at the other end Billingsley fired a shot just wide to make sure the hosts didn't get any crazy ideas of a comeback.

The game took on an expected pattern, the leading ranks were looking comfortable and were unlucky not to add a further strike.  Matthews latched onto a long ball and forced the resident No1 (Joseph Angus) to produce a solid block and soon after the keeper was forced into action again when a substitute moved in and fired low. 

The folding threads of the game unwound, during the last gasps the West went down to 10 men after losing a player to an injury and having no replacements left.  3 corners for the WDC mob resulted in bugger all, the Purp's No 2 (Joseph Cunningham) dashed at the last but finalised his efforts with a ruddy dire shot and that was indeed, that!

A cruel game with a single moment making all the difference. Man of the Match goes to the tireless trooper of West Didsbury and Chorlton, namely their No 11 (Billy Matthews). A superb commitment was shown throughout, great effort and a willingness to work both on and off the ball - no wonder he went of with a limp.  Great work and keep up the fine 'heads down' attitude and this will be a very profitable season.

We two wanderers headed home after farewells.  The roads were surprisingly quiet seeing that it was a Bank Holiday - this had been another good day out, some good species recorded, the legs stretched, 5 goals and sunshine - YES.

FINAL THOUGHTS - West Didsbury and Chorlton have a fair squad here and several players to really turn any game on its head.  This is a very tough and competitive league though and if I was picking my top six these would just be on the outside.  They played well today but it was against a team low on form and playing the most part with 10 men, judgement is impaired for sure.  They are not far off being a more competitive unit but they need to string a series of wins together pretty sharpish and keep their team intact.  I may be wrong but a top ten team is my hunch, but then Quasimodo had a hunch and it did him no good at all that is for sure - ooh the balls, the balls.  City of Liverpool are a conundrum.  I have seen them 3 times so far, they have some players of note, pass and play well but after today's game are rock bottom of the league.  This doesn't seem right but as Bruce Forsyth used to say 'points make prizes' and 'ooh Anthea give us a twirl'.  The latter catchphrase is irrelevant unless they are thinking of starting a new club called 'Generation Game Utd' and only using transvestite players.  The former catchphrase is spot on though and the Purple Pirates had better get pilfering some points very soon.  The are no pushovers in this league - I shall be watching their progress closely and catching them in the flesh very soon.

THE UNEXPECTED STATE OF THE EXPECTED

22nd August 2025 - Wythenshawe FC 3 v 3 Cheadle Heath Nomads - Another working week done, I had cracked on, was up to speed and had led a Clay Making Workshop with a few Young Carers.  Today I was jaded but after work had a cycle home via Fletcher Moss where I grabbed a coffee and recorded some insect life. Once home I input the sightings, had a sprawl with the missus, partook of a quick tea before being dropped off at this nearby ground.  Upon arrival I bagged a brew and nattered with local Non-League embezzlers Mr and Mrs X.  This couple I know have recently become involved with the Nomads, Mr X is now the secretary and Mrs X does all sorts of work here and there.  They are a lovely couple but their close contact with the local clubs coffers has seen them develop rich tastes and only the other night reports came in of them both being seen in a tucked away opium den, dressed in the finest silks and sipping champagne poured between the breasts of a Cheadle virgin.  This is all believable news except for snippet regarding the unblemished lady (I mean, come on, that is really stretching the truth). Upon hearing about this disreputable behaviour, I was a trifle shocked.  Tonight I noted both were smoking Cuban Cigars and Mr X had recently had a butt uplift.  The evidence is damning, how some people live.

And to the game proper, positions were duly chosen, Mrs X asked me if I wanted one of her Baluga caviar hors d'oeuvres, I declined and had a spam butty instead whilst watching the opening hoofings in this FA Vase encounter.

After the initial feeling out process the first team to muster any menace were the hosts with a lengthy ball finding No 11 (Darius Palmer) who cut in with ease, delivered a floating cross that the keeper neatly dealt with.  The Nomads did well to respond with No 7 (Kaylan Wilkinson) out wide and posting a ball that needed some observant defending.  From here the guests won and wasted a corner and then Wythy's No 7 (Aaron Dwyer) flashed away, worked inside and sent a shot over the timber.  Now that was a warning.

The contest was warming up nicely with the underdogs more than holding their own.  Corners and free-kicks came and went, the home No 10 (Brian Ly) received a low pass and cracked one off without hesitation.  The shot was deflected wide and the angled hoof was well defended.  Back and forth we went with the closest to any penetration coming when No 11 (Edson Cata) for the Cheadle chaps was the apical component and whom sent forth a shot that was saved with relative ease.

The game looked fairly settled when out of the great capricious blue the visiting No 6 (Hal McHugh) hit a fine ball to Cata who received with noteworthy attention and duly dashed forth with the strike zone well and truly in sight.  Space was running out, composure was maintained and after a brief look the ball was buried - a fine goal laden with the unexpected - for the neutral like me, it was the perfect start.

This was a pace riddled game and the guests were doing just fine.  A Nomads corner, the delivery was superb, No 4 (Callum Graham) appeared - wham, bam, and shit flavoured jam (well, for the hosts at least) - 2 goals to the Nomads in what was turning into a high-end shocker. Soon after the short-distance travellers were marauding forth again.  In and out the ball went, a shot fizzed wide, a follow-on corner was bilge.  

Wythenshawe were just on the cusp of losing their cool when a corner was won.  The posting of the ball into the realms of potential peril brought a moment of confusion, the team on the back foot were happy to hoof clear.  A free-kick followed, the Nomads keeper held without fuss. After sustained pressure a long ball for the hosts came.  Palmer was away, the guest keeper was out and a foul was committed.  The card brandished was of egg-yolk tones - it could have been much worse.  The free-kick was taken by Ly, the ball scooted mere inches wide.

Next, and another long ball came for the hosts. Palmer took possession with great artistry and control, a pass came and No 7 (Aaron Dwyer) only needed to cut in, set the sights and kaboom, the netting was bulged and the game was now back on.  Within mere seconds No 8 (Kamoy McNair) cracked forth a driller that wasn't a killer but which the keeper did well to get down to, gather and keep his team just ahead.  The final flings of a good half came with no further strikes - the second half was set up nicely.

Mr and Mrs X left me for a while whilst they nipped off to do who knows what? I was happy to nibble a Granola Bar and have a natter with the Nomad's photographer Mark.  A fine chap this with a collection of Wilfred Bramble tattoos second to none.  He also has a John Inman scrawling on his left testicle that he seems to be rather shy about - in this day and age of so-called liberated thinking I think a tribute should be paid to the said nut as a nod to some forward thinking ahead of its time.  In fact I am going to write a letter to the Nomads Chairman and see if we can get a Giant Teste erected outside the ground with the word's 'I'm Free' emblazoned across it.  Ooh what would old Mr Grace say?

Half two, an early Wythy free boot brought no joy and nearly resulted in disaster when Cheadle broke via their rapido Wilkinson who really should have done more than finalise with a somewhat shitty cross.  The hosts reacted, a low shot the end result, the Nomad's No 1 (Joseph Lawlor) once more saving well.

The rising tide of home-based impetus was now seeing the game played in one half of the field.  The only release for the leading team saw Wilkinson again, bust a bollock, dart into the box with no options available.  A similar dash gave rise to a free-kick which fizzled out before a somewhat subdued period came.  Dwyer had a punt that was straight at the keeper but all in all, very few chances came. 

Time edged along, the trailing pack were just lacking the creative touch and the team with their noses in front were doing enough to quell any rising threat.  The game stuttered away, like Patrick Campbell on whizz in fact (ooh Call My Bluff).  Eventually matters picked up, the guests had to clear a shot off the line and gasp and grasp as they held on to their slender advantage when... a break came. Wilkinson was charging with purpose and then finding himself with a goal chance to grab.  The outcome was a fine taken strike and a great celebration from a team who were riding the crest of a wave.  The problem with crests though, is that they are easily fallen if care is not taken.

Now the Wythenshawe unit worked with high industry and a serious degree of panic.  A free-kick was won, Dwyer whacked the ball towards the wall which parted quicker than the buttocks of Liberace at a stag do.  Thankfully for the Nomads penetration was lacking ( I think the said key-tapper had nay such problems).  Wythy came again, the attack was swift, cutting and precise.  The cross that came left all standing except No 9 (Darrhyl Mason) who tapped home and brought high hopes to his fellow battlers.  There were only 6 minutes left plus added - cripes.

The finale was all frenzied action, Dwyer had a pop that went across goal and brought great gasps from the crowd that had me checking the groin area of the aforementioned Mark in the worry that is left plum had made an unexpected cameo appearance.  As I averted my eyes from the ball-free realm to that where the sphere was the focus of all I witnessed a handball shout get waved away, more balls enter the Nomads box and then, Dwyer attempt a ludicrous overhead kick and clatter the bar.

Luck seemed to be on the visiting tribes side when, on the 96th minute a ball was played, the Nomads were seen to be all too static and in No 6 (Fraser Goodwin) stepped to level the game, break many a hope and put the contest into the penalty shoot out stage.  The pressure was heaped onto the Nomads by the shovel load, the penalties came with the guests up first.  McHugh buried, Wythy's Ly equalised.  A Nomads sub was denied by a great save, Mason put his side in front for the first time all night. Another  Nomads sub levelled, Wythy No 4 (Steven Hewitt) poked his team ahead. The next Nomads replacement blasted over and then Dwyer had his shot saved.  Wilkinson for the Nomads had to score to keep things alive and he did so with ease and then we saw Wythy's Cata step up and have the game to win.  The ball was struck, the keeper committed and the onlookers pondered - the net bulged, the hosts had snatched victory from the jaws of defeat - the jubilant scenes were awash with great relief - wow.

Game done, what a cracker and for me the Man of the Match must go the Cheadle Heath Nomads No 7 (Kaylan Wilkinson) who was a constant threat, a real menace and a quick and forward thinking component in a hard working and unfortunate team.  The goal was deserved, here's to a good season fella.

FINAL THOUGHTS - I was fagged after this one, it had been a real humdinger with the potential of a cup upset just snuffed out at the very last.  Cheadle Heath Nomads will do OK this season, they play with good discipline, have pace and a good level of industry and just need the odd tweak to make them a real threat.  An out an out striker, a commanding force at the rear and they will be close to the finished article. If they play with the passion shown tonight though they may have enough to bag a top 6 finish.  Wythenshawe have just dropped back into the North West Counties Premier League - they will be in the mix come the end of the season but this is not a given.  Tonight they showed vulnerabilities and at times, just overplayed matters.  They have the players and enough experience to overcome this but it will take hard work, dedication and some consistency.  A cup run could be a blessing or a curse, they could go on a good roll in this year's Vase though, how that will affect their league form is anyone's guess - I wish them all the best.

NB:  On the way home I noted Mr and Mrs X being picked up in a Limo - the disgust didn't override the joys of witnessing a darn good cup tie.  

THE ART OF TIRELESS INDUSTRY

12th August 2025 - Cheadle Town 2 v 2 City of Liverpool - I am striving to keep on a decent footballing roll at the mo, in the midst of the usual noise and nature duties.  The weekend saw us head over Yorkshire way and witness a real grueller that left me abandoning the match report due to the limited excitement.  Believe me, back in the 70's when someone gave me a copy of Derek Nimmo's Guide to Midget Sex, I achieved greater pleasure and would have had a lot more to write about including a few paragraphs on ruptured rings and microscopic things.  Between the game mentioned and tonight's battle I had been to watch Maine Road reserves draw 1 - 1 with Northwich Victoria reserves which was a decent game that could have gone either way.

So, after a day of counting and recording moths (no, not from my underpants), working and then nipping to the bike shop to get my a new tyre, I had tea, caught up with a few chores and watched an episode of Steptoe and Son.  Due to the heat and being fagged my good lady dropped me off at the game so as to avoid attending with a sweaty arse and a rubicund mush - she's a good un'.  Upon arrival I gave salutations to Mike on the gate and a few COL faces who are always good to catch up with.  Peawack and Bill are bods who support their team through thick and thin and even though the latter tried to sell me some candid snaps of Jimmy Tarbuck and his one legged lover (complete with scratch and sniff card) he is still worthy of a mention.  I did purchase a couple of snaps just for research purposes and as part of a thesis on the game show 'Winner Takes All'.  Talking of which...

Who would be taking the 3 point prize tonight, that was the question.  I was soon in my roosting position, joined by local Cheadle Heath Nomads embezzlers Gareth and Sandra (more to come in following reports) and duly scribbling an assessment.  Here are the results with indeed, the result.

The balmy air was wafted by the movement of 22 bods who started to chase the globe of glory at 7.45pm. The start to the game was brisk with the home lads pushing and probing whilst the away team scampered and strove to cultivate the odd peek at goal.  The first action proper came when a high Town ball fell to the feet of No 16 (Saul Henderson) who had oodles of time to pick his spot and put the ball around the keeper.  Alas the shot that came was absolutely abysmal, lacked both power and direction and saw a dream start disappear into the jacksie of the night. The Town soon progressed once more with some choice passing and awareness.  The grey clad Purps (paradox) continued to dash around like pilfering transvestites in a knicker shop - all worked up and hoping to steal something special.

The guests continued to work up a good lather, No 8 (Ashton Clements) was looking a solid component and No 11 (Che Trapasso-Tully) looked as though the manager had filled his underduds with an overspill of electric maggots - what a lively chap!  The Town were still holding greatest threat though, they won a corner that the opposition cleared and then a home free kick saw No 7 (Kaleb Parkinson) receive, feed Henderson who had a shot that wasn't even on target - another chance wasted.

From here we had more high end animation with the first goal surely coming soon.  From nowhere the guest No 7 (Adam Brooks) battled away out wide and worked his way into a position of peril.  There where options available but the player in possession decided to have a pop at goal.  The strike was keen and low and the inside side of the meshing was bulged outward - 0 - 1 to the travelling tribe, just what the game needed.

The onus was now on the trailing unit to try and get back in this, they knuckled down and were soon coming forth with a cross out wide, collected, delivered and leaving the ball in front of the open goal for No 10 (Oliver Ford) to tap home.  Balance restored with the Liverpool lads immediately responding.  A long ball, Brooks nutted on, Trapasso-Tully gathered the loose ball and sent forth a shot that was just too elevated.  Again the visiting ranks came, No 9 (Stephen Milne) was released and into the box he ran.  A grass-grazing shot came, the home No 1 (James Hodges) was the human-butt-plug and did enough to stop any further penetration.

No 6 (Luke Boylan) for the City of Liverpool chanced the shank with a volley soon after, it was a sweet hit but the mitter was in the right place at the right time.  The Town were soon reacting, No 8 (Darren McKnight) posted a delicious ball out to No 11 (Izac Khan) who gathered, dashed and delivered.  Once more Ford was there to tap home and finalise a quite choice goal.  This was a fine turnaround in what was an enthralling game.  Soon after a cross for the hosts found the head of Henderson who once again, couldn't hit the strike zone - it was just one of those nights. No 4 (Benjamin Lowe) had a golden chance next with a superb ball played in and waiting for the merest of touches to bring up the host's third strike.  Somehow the globe was left unmolested, and another chance went begging.

The City of Liverpool lads were under a brandished cosh, the half wound down, Brooks had a glimpse of glory but his shot was too high.  The referee blew for the break, this had been a ruddy good 45 minute session and still, all was to play for.  I had a chat with Peawack for the break - we covered the lunacy of the Labour Party, fishing and the reasoning behind Bill Shepherd's latest business plan that will see an ambitious attempt to sell rectal dandruff under the guise of fashionable food seasoning.  'Ring Salt inc' goes into full swing next week, your fish and chips may never taste the same.

Period two began with a sprightly urgency and 2 unsuccessful corner kicks from the hosts. A free-kick came the same way, the ball was lofted and looked set to be dropping into the goal but the keeper was alert and did well to palm away.  The Town continued to press and The Purps resisted with solid defiance.  Eventually the guests started to earn more of the play and really turn the screw.  A gratis hoofing saw Brooks dink the ball into the box and the inrushing striker have the goal awaiting a good old bulger.  Alas the boot was swung and only the warm night air was struck - what a chance!

The heat began to rise on the pitch, the midges at pitchside began to become a nuisance and nip any flesh exposed, I was mighty thankful I wasn't wearing my City of Liverpool open crotch leggings - more than a purple helmet would have been the result.  As I contemplated the nipping arthropods Trapasso-Tully for the travellers flashed the flank, whipped in a fair ball but with too much height for even the most elongated players.

A substitute for the guests next, Brooks off which was a real surprise as I considered him the best player on the pitch thus far.  This move did not effect the flow of the game as The Town were kept on the rack by a very industrious team who were really laden with belief and effort.  These two facets saw Trapasso-Tully dash once more, fly into the box and slip.  The referee gave a penalty, I was unsure as there seemed to be no contact, perhaps I blinked.  No 17 (Andy Mandjoba) stepped up, the ball was placed and slapped home with cool authority - back to all square and all to play for.

City of Liverpool continued to outwork the home team and looked to bag all 3 points.  Trapasso-Tully once more led a charge and sent the ball from the flank into the area where Mandjoba connected at the back post but was denied by a still alert keeper.  The Town responded with resolute huff and puff and a long range dig that was wide of the mark.  The return attack soon came with one of the subs eventually on the ball and sending a shot off target that really left a big chance missed.  The impetus and endeavour remained high, a frenzied finish was the result but no further breakthroughs came.  One long ball into the box called upon COL's No 5 (Alex Gofton) to put in a firm defensive header but other than that, the spoils of war were shared.

A grand game, farewells had and Man of the Match was a close run thing but I was sticking to City of Liverpool's No 7 (Adam Brooks) who, when on the pitch, was a constant threat, a strong and direct force and who certainly deserved his goal for some good effort and forward running play.  I buggered off home delighted with a good do and looking to apply some onion juice to my insect bites - another of Shepherd's Snake Oil Cure Alls.

FINAL THOUGHTS- Well I thought this was a grand match, a really good advert for the North West Counties League and a veritable indication that money is well spent at these places and time invested is time not wasted.  Cheadle Town were pre-match favourites for me, on paper I think they are a top 6 side, they are a darn sight more pleasing on the eye than they were last year and have certainly developed a good playing system that I am sure will reap great rewards.  I like the fact that they use the full width of the pitch, communicate well and have a manager who certainly knows his stuff.  I will be getting a good share of viewings of this team, we shall see what develops.  City of Liverpool are a guaranteed prospect of high entertainment.  They play with a manner that will sometimes see them come unstuck but will sometimes see them wallop a team.  A real 'toss of a coin' situation but what got them through tonight was a admirable 'never say die' attitude, a resounding work ethic and a determination to play for the full 90 minutes with all conkers bared and blistering.  The point earned tonight was a point that pinged them off the bottom of the heap, this can only help with the confidence and lead to perhaps, a run of good form.  Like I say though, I reckon the results will be of a capricious nature - I am looking to be on the edge of me predicting seat again real soon.

PLUNDERING OLD UN'S

2nd August 2025 - Fulwood Amateurs 1 v 4 Holker Old Boys - Another hectic week had been and gone. The CD reviews were up to speed, all nature records were online and recorded, work was done and it was time to have a good head clearing weekend.  We set off early today, parked up at Haslam Park and went to a nearby cafe for a good breakfast and a coffee.  We had a walk soon after, the weather was strange, threatening to rain, sometimes cool, sometimes clammy with sporadic outbursts of sun.  We clocked up 199 species and kept the blood flowing - not a bad do at all. We arrived at the ground jaded and after purchasing victuals sat on the grass at pitchside and awaited the 2 teams.  This was a different ground for us, we like to add the odd new place into the annual mix, we hoped the football would be of a good standard with plenty of twists, turns and thrills. As things transpired, we weren't disappointed.  It was a shame there were no seats ready to take the weight off our posteriors, the ground is being worked upon though and when we return we hope to find comfy armchairs all around the pitch, each one with its own built-in buttock massager and tea-making device - we are demanding souls.

And to the game... the home pack started with pace-injected zeal and earned a corner.  The ball that was delivered was high and fell onto the awaiting bonce of No 4 (Glenn Steele) who nutted across goal from his back post position.  The merest of touches from an attacking bod would have brought the first goal, luckily for the opposition it didn't come.  The guests immediately responded with a sally forth that ended in a corner.  The outcome was a ball played short, knocked in, knocked back out, reposted and with the keeper eventually on it. What a waste of ruddy ink I thought!

From here the  Barrow-in-Furness based pack passed well, moved with endeavour and forced the hosts to earn their daily crust.  Fulwood more than held their own with a neat move that saw several passes lead to a sweetly threaded pass that No 9 (Spender Lucas) latched onto.  A shot came but a defender did enough to kill the sting and allow for the danger to be dealt with.  The home lads continued to push with another corner resulting in another lofted ball in. No 5 (Sam Higham) headed down from the far stick and No 8 (Sam Braithwaite) flicked on only to see the ball go over the horizontal.

Braithwaite for the hosts was leading the way next with a superb twist, turn and dash down the flank.  The cross came, a colleague whose number eluded me connected  and the bar was clattered.  The side under the cosh duly cleared with great relief.  

Fulwood Amateurs continued to press and were the better side thus far although the Holker unit had the odd sortie forth, one of which ended in a free-kick that No 10 (Jamie Hodgson) struck well only to be denied by an alert and animated keeper.  Suddenly the guests were marauding forth again with the ball bumbling around, the defensive ranks fumbling and a cross being borne amid a moment of indecision.  Up stepped No 9 (Luke Davey) and the ball was buried.  0 - 1, against the grain but that is how the cookie sometimes crumbles.

Fulwood now worked up a good lather to regain footballing parity but were soon back-pedaling as the green clad Davey was released and looking to finish.  Thankfully the resident No 1 (Jacob Barry) had his peepers peeled, his body well-flung and an outstretched shank did enough to block the effort.  After a booking for HOB's stalwart No 5 (Luke Mitchell) Fulwood mustered an attack.  The player who had just received a card was there to quell danger with the ball pinging off one of his upper limbs.  It looked a minor accident, the referee disagreed and gave a penalty.  This was a big moment, a strike and suddenly the match would be a different ball game.  No 3 (Theodore Ball) stepped up, stroked the ball forth and... missed the target - a shocker for sure.

The half was now nearly done, a ball was knocked forth for Holker, the keeper, who had been having a good game thus far, hesitated.  This slight pause allowed the galloping No 7 (Charlie McGladdery) to nip in with the cranium and double his sides lead.  Soon after the half was done and I was wondering how the Hell were the visitors 2 goals to the good?

A coffee for the break, my lass had a bag of crisps.  I avoided the salty treats as I am striving to be good, lower the blood pressure and drop a few pounds - by heck it ain't easy.  I could live on sausages, I could quite happily become a fish and chip tester for the local Fat Arse Society and I could surely put in a good showing at the Annual Sexual Trifle Festival where whizzing up a vat of jelly, custard, cream and sprinkles and then drinking the resultant liquid would be an unbridled joy.  But - the ticker says 'no' and the doctor frowns.  Bastards!

Half two with belly rumbling.  The leading squad were straight at it with a cross ball just not falling for an advancing striker.  The home team responded with an attack that bore similar fruit - the fruit, in fact, of the Tree of No Returns (Fuckus allus).  Holker were the team looking most likely to puncture the scoreline yet again with a cross laden with threat that the home mitter did well to palm away.  2 quick shots the same way came, in a manic start that saw no further goals.  Fulwood soon cultivated a spurt with No 7 (James Bell) having a pop from the angle that was close but not close enough.

The intriguing tussle continued. Fulwood's Ball chanced his shank with a rangy shot that found the outer onion bag and then the guests came forth with a thru-ball that found Hodgson who neatly found space, hoofed a low shot that the keeper tidily dealt with.  Suddenly, as time ticked on, the Amateurs won a gratis punt with the ball sweetly delivered and Braithwaite rising, putting crust on globe and finding the goal.  This was just what the game needed, perfect for we neutral nellies.

The next goal gained in its level of importance especially seeing that if there was only 1 more goal, either myself or my good lady would have predicted the correct score (I had opted for a Holker 3 - 1 win, my lass for a 2 - 2 draw.  Soon after the restart No 10 (Owen Watkinson) for Fulwood was racing away. A cross to Ball to bury saw the sphere just not settle and the chance get snuffed out.  At the other end and a tackle was made, argy-bargy ensued and Braithwaite for the FA chaps was sent packing.  Hodgson posted the free kick. In and out the ball went before No 3 (Joshua Woodend) had a pop that was deflected wide.  The corner came, it was well defended but immediately sent back in the perilous zone.  The ball pinged, Mitchell somehow bungled it home - this was added salt in Fulwood's opened wound, nay an extra clobbering in the recently exposed conkers for sure.

Much fluster and bluster came, the hosts gave a good account of themselves for a fair period.  The closest they came was when a sugar-plum cross found the dome of Lucas who was mere feet from goal but denied by the adept agility of the gloved guardian.  Watkinson had a pop next, it was a nice try but had way too much elevation.

The final gaspings, another free kick was awarded to the away tribe.  Hodgson was on it, struck a low pearler that brought up a 1 - 4 scoreline and pissed on the promise of a Non-League prediction.  

The last few minutes saw Fulwood still work with tireless passion. Watkinson being an eye-catching component.  A few more shots came either end,  the game came to a close with still good energy levels exposed.  The result was unfair I thought but Holker Old Boys are no mugs and know their way around the NWCFL circuit and duly deserved the win.  Man of the Match for me was their No 5 (Luke Mitchell) - a real choice defensive stint, getting in the way of many attacks, staying calm on the ball and grabbing a bonus goal too - now that is one good day methinks.  We headed home after another good jaunt out, get them armchairs ready, we shall be back.

FINAL THOUGHTS - Fulwood Amateurs are on a new adventure and it can so easily go tits up if the heads dip and Lady Luck plays a duff hand.  There were many moments today that could have swung this game the other way and on paper the result looks resounding.  I think this lot will more than hold their own in this league and have a good work ethos and passing ability to get them a mid-table finish.  The keeper is a fair last man and one or several out players seem to have the potential to have a good season.  They need a win soon, like an early morn pisspot after a sherry special bender, they need a settler, it will come but they have to take their chances.  Holker Old Boys are the wise old owls of the campaign and will swoop down on any enfeebled prey and make them pay big-time.  I am sure they will be in the top six come season end, they seem a complete team who have a good inner belief.  They will get rough patches, the questions will then arise.  Keep thy heads, have faith and keep passing and working off the ball and reap the rewards.  The last time we went up to watch these lot was part of a fine 3 day jaunt, I may be striving to persuade my missus that we have to repeat matters.